“We must swamp the wa’a wa’a,” Ka’pena cried and Kon’ala’s eyes went wide with fear. Finally, he nodded in agreement, realizing that Moana must be very angry to throw such a powerful ‘ino their way. He briefly wondered what they did to anger her so, but realized he might never know.
Once the shelter was safely overboard, they carefully headed back to their positions, but suddenly a great wave rose up before the craft, looming dangerously over them all.
Io’lana cried out a warning but before the two men realized the danger, the wave crashed down and both men were swept away. There was little any of the men in the boat could do but try to keep the craft pointed into the storm, which was much more difficult now that they’d lost two of their crew from the stern. They all knew however, that if the boat spun away from the storm, it would be catastrophe for everyone.
Me’lei quickly shifted back to fill Kon’ala’s position and shouted for Io’lana to do the same, but the wind took his words from his mouth and carried them off in the opposite direction. The storm continued to batter the craft when suddenly Ka’pena reappeared, having caught hold of the trolling line. He struggled, clearly exhausted, but with a massive effort he finally managed to pull himself back on deck. The boat was rotating wildly and rode high up on a massive wave. Before the captain could find his seat the wa’a wa’a tipped sharply as the starboard wa’a rose ever higher on the wave. Suddenly Me’lei was up and Io’lana was down, and Ka’pena was thrown once more into the sea.
“Ka’pena!” Io’lana yelled, though again the fury of the storm carried his cry away. Miraculously they topped the wave and slid down the far side. Hardly a man aboard could believe they’d not capsized, but before they even realized their good fortune, the wa’a wa’a started to spin. The panicked men tried to right the ship, pulling hard with their paddles, but they had little chance against the angry sea.
Ke’alohi glanced around but Me’lei remained lost in the spray, so he focused on trying to right the ship. Even with his great strength however, it was all but hopeless. Still, he forced his paddle forward in the water along with the others in his wa’a, all trying to pull the bow into the teeth of the storm. All the men worked together, everyone knew exactly what had to be done. They bobbed up and down several smaller waves as the front of the ship finally began to swing around, but before the crew succeeded, Moana, the Mother water that had protected and fed them all since birth, turned against them. A great wave appeared and drew them up high into the air.
Ke’alohi cried out, terrified for the first time in his young life. The size of the wave was unfathomable even to those who’d spent a lifetime on the ocean. The boat rose up and up, higher by far than the tallest trees on their island, and once near the crest the wave flung them over and away.
Ke’alohi clung to the wa’a, digging his knees against the sides. He watched in horror as Me’lei and Eli’kapika fell into space. Everything slowed down, and as the boat flipped over Ke’alohi caught Io’lana’s eyes and saw terror reflected back at him, but then Ke’alohi lost his battle with Moana and slipped from the canoe. He fell headfirst, and despite the distance, the water raced toward him startlingly fast. Suddenly unafraid Ke’alohi remained calm and tossed his paddle aside so that he could break the surface of the water with his hands as he entered. Instinctively he knew he had to dive far into the depths, or be crushed by the wa’a wa’a that was coming down after him.
Seconds later he knifed into the ocean and quickly began to swim deeper, and then deeper still, before suddenly coming to a halt and holding his position. He tried to make out what was happening above, but it was too dark to see. The water below seemed remarkably calm when compared to the tempest at the surface; even so he only lingered for a few moments before he battled back toward surface. The water was black and churning, blinding Ke’alohi during his ascent. He kept both hands forward in order to ward off any sections of the boat he could not see. It wouldn’t do to escape the falling boat only to smash his head on his way up.
He broke the surface and quickly spotted a section of the wa’a wa’a floating directly in front of him. His heart fell when he realized that the ship had broken apart. The piece near him consisted of an overturned wa’a, a large section of decking and a sail floating in the water. He could see several of his shipmates clinging to the wreckage as they all rode another wave up and up. Near the crest Ke’alohi spun about looking for the other half of the boat, but he was not able to spot it before he slid back down the far side of the wave. He continued to search as he crested the next wave, but it was nowhere in sight and Ke’alohi feared it had sunk to the bottom. Finally, he gave up and spun back around only to find that the other section of the boat had drifted away an alarming distance. Without panicking, Ke’alohi began to swim toward the wreckage with the strong powerful strokes he was known for, but after several moments of hard swimming he found himself no closer to the relative safety of the overturned wa’a. Still there was no question of giving up, so he kept on kicking and fighting toward his goal. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he began to make headway.
On and on he swam, though the broken section of the boat was never more than a stone’s throw away. Even so, Ke’alohi was beginning to seriously tire when finally he heard the encouraging shouts of his shipmates. Ke’alohi glanced up, beginning to despair that he would ever make it to the wreckage, when suddenly the ocean current shifted and the section of boat raced quickly toward him.
Ke’alohi sighed when he finally grabbed onto the keel of the overturned wa’a. He wrapped his arms around the hull and struggled to keep his grip on the smooth wet surface as another large wave carried them up, and then up some more. Despite his exhaustion, Ke’alohi took the opportunity to search the sea for any other survivors, but the sea was empty.
Once over the crest Ke’alohi struggled to throw his leg up and over the wa’a. His arms and legs were rubbery from his long swim, but he was young and strong and eventually managed to pull himself half out of the water. He rested for a moment as the wreckage bobbed over the next few waves, before sliding to check the other survivors.
Me’lei was closest, lying face down. He lifted his head slightly to gaze at the younger man, but did not try to speak. Ke’alohi noticed a large gash above his right temple. Me’lei nodded slightly, before turning his attention back to surviving the never ending torrent. Beyond him Io’lana and Li’liha struggled to stay aboard. It only took a glance to realize that Io’lana was seriously hurt. Li’liha was cradling the injured man, holding him close, and struggling to keep them both aboard the overturned wreckage.
Ke’alohi watched the two fight through several large waves before he was finally satisfied that Li’liha had a firm grip on the injured prince. He carefully sat up, worried about being pitched into the sea again, and then continued his search for the other half of the wa’a wa’a. Up and down they went and then up and down again. The rain fell heavily, keeping visibility down to only the immediate area. Ke’alohi saw nothing but empty ocean.
The storm continued to rage well into the evening before it finally began to slacken, and then as suddenly as it had begun, the rain stopped completely. Ke’alohi took the opportunity for another search, but spotted nothing on the rolling sea.
“They’re gone,” Me’lei said softly, slowly sitting up. The older man was clearly saddened. “If the others still live, they’ve been carried away by the storm. We should not look to them for help.”
Ke’alohi ignored him and continued searching for several more minutes before finally turning back. “We should see to Io’lana,” he stated, and glanced past the old storyteller and gasped.
Io’lana, though still aboard, was slumped face down. Now that the rain had stopped Ke’alohi could see a sharp splinter of wood protruding from the Prince’s upper back.
Li’liha was half lying across the young man’s waist as they bobbed up and down another large wave.
“He’s unconscious but alive,” Li’liha told them and gri
maced.
Ignoring the still volatile sea, Me’lei neatly flipped around so that he was facing their injured comrade. Straddling the wa’a wa’a, he effortlessly slid his body closer and leaned forward to study the wound. It was bad, high up near the shoulder, but far enough away from the core of his body that Me’lei thought it might have missed his lungs. It was bleeding, but not badly. Me’lei would have liked to lift the young man up to see if the splinter went all the way through the Prince, but in the rough seas he knew they couldn’t risk it. Instead, he slipped closer and grabbed Io’lana firmly by the underarms.
“I have him if you need to rest,” he told Li’liha, who nodded and tried to pull himself up. He cried out in pain, favoring his left arm. Me’lei and Ke’alohi looked on, alarmed.
“My ribs,” Li’liha gasped. “I hit the edge of the wa’a when we fell,” he added and then coughed. Blood sprayed from his mouth, covering Io’lana’s exposed back.
“Lie back down,” Me’lei insisted. “You need to rest and move as little as possible.”
Li’liha smiled wanly. “Should be easy,” he replied just as it started to rain once more.
Me’lei stared at his friend for a long time, but there was little he could do for him…for any of them. “Drink,” he ordered them all and then lifted his open mouth to the heavens. Li’liha and Ke’alohi did as they were told; both realizing they could be without fresh water for some time.
Ke’alohi only spent a few moments catching rainwater in his mouth, before Me’lei spoke once more.
“Ke’alohi, I need you to come watch over Io’lana,” the older man said and Ke’alohi immediately started forward. He had to jump into the water in order to get around Me’lei, but he was soon back in position on the wa’a, and grabbed firmly onto the prince.
He was curious as to what the more seasoned sailor had in mind, but before he could ask Me’lei shifted his weight and nimbly climbed onto the section of decking. It sank down into the sea under his weight but held, so Me’lei gingerly made his way away from the wa’a. By the time his reached the far side, the decking was so submerged he was forced to swim, but he did not have to go far before he was able to snatch up a piece of sail. He used the knife at his waist to cut away several large sections, and a goodly length of rope. Once he had his prize he swam back and cautiously climbed up onto the decking.
Without a word he made his way carefully back to the wa’a. He sat behind Ke’alohi so that the younger man could not see exactly what he was doing. The sea was still rough enough to discourage movement, especially while he was trying to keep the prince from falling overboard.
In short order however, Me’lei handed him a bowl of sorts that he’d fashioned from the sail. He’d cut a crude circle out of the thick matting and piercing it numerous times before tying it up with section of rope.
“It’s not completely water tight but it should hold the rain in for a time,” he told Ke’alohi and motioned for him to pass it on to Li’liha. Me’lei quickly fashioned four more crude bowls which they used to catch rainwater for nearly another hour before the rain stopped completely.
The seas were still high, but were down considerably from the peak of the storm. It was growing dark, but just before the sunset; the sun emerged from beneath the mass of clouds and lit the sea with hope.
Ke’alohi looked around in all directions, but the ocean remained empty save for their lone piece of wooden sanctuary.
Chapter Six
Ke’alohi and Leilani
873 B.C.
The sea remained rough, creating a sleepless night for all but Io’lana, who was unconscious through most of it. However just before daybreak, Ke’alohi slipped into a semi-conscious state and the prince slowly slid off the safety of the wa’a and into the ocean. He sputtered awake and instinctively began to swim, but once he moved his right arm he screamed. The sound was startling loud in the quiet, and everyone instantly came fully alert. Ke’alohi, slightly panicked, jumped in the water and wrapped his strong arms around Io’lana, bumping his injury roughly. Io’lana screamed again and then several more times as Ke’alohi and Me’lei struggled to get him back safely on the wa’a.
“What…what happened?” Io’lana asked weakly, once he was securely on the overturned craft.
“The storm was bad,” Me’lei replied grimly, his face still indistinct in the dark. The sky was clearing, but the moon was hidden behind a band of thick clouds, even so the mass of stars overhead gave off just enough light for Io’lana to make out the faces of the men closest to him.
“Who?”
“Only Li’liha,” Ke’alohi answered and then looked past the prince. The rest of the wa’a was empty.
“Li’liha!” Ke’alohi yelled and spun around searching the dark waters.
They all remained quiet for several long minutes, scanning the early morning darkness, but in the dim starlight, visibility was limited.
“He must have slipped off in the night,” Me’lei finally said, berating himself for not watching the wounded man closer.
The silence continued for a time. “Could he have died? He seemed to be doing all right last night,” Ke’alohi commented as the sky drifted from black to purple behind him.
“His ribs,” Me’lei continued softly. “His ribs were broken. I think blood was getting into his lungs.”
The sea had calmed sometime overnight, which made it much easier to remain situated on the curved hull of the wa’a.
Io’lana blanched and began to study his own wound. The splinter of wood, about twice the size of his thumb, completely skewered his right side, just below the shoulder. It was bad but after careful examination he believed the wound did not threaten his own lungs.
“We shouldn’t try to remove it until we find land,” Me’lei told him, and the prince nodded after a moment. Io’lana understood just how dangerous it would be to try and remove the splinter, which at the moment was only trickling blood. Even so, he spent the better part of the morning trying to decide if it would be better to pull it out through the front or the back. He only stopped obsessing over the wound when he was overcome with a raging fever and dropped into a fitful sleep.
Io’lana drifted in and out of consciousness over the next two days as they floated slowly west with the ocean current. The skies remained clear and the winds light, which was at once a blessing and a curse. They ran out of rainwater the morning of the third day, and that afternoon the first shiver of sharks appeared around the wreckage. Ke’alohi was searching for land when he spotted the telltale fins and pointed them out excitedly.
“Do you think we’ve drifted close to Kamohalii’s island?” The young man asked fearfully. Kamohalii was the shark god, and legend had it that he and any of his people could change from man to shark at will. Worse yet was the fact that in their watery manifestation they fed ravenously, preferring human flesh over anything else.
Me’lei shrugged and showed no fear. He was a seasoned shark caller and had killed many of the underwater hunters in his time…at least when they were not Aumakua.
Aumakua were ancestors who at times would take on the guise of ordinary animals to protect, or at times communicate, with the living. Sharks, because of their grace and power, were a favorite of the Aumakua while in the ocean. This, he thought was the most likely reason for the sharks sudden appearance out in the middle of the sea. Of course he could be wrong.
“Kamohalii may be near,” he finally replied, “which would be bad for our journey, but more likely it’s Li’liha and the others from the wa’a wa’a come to protect Io’lana on his journey.”
Ke’alohi was comforted by this idea and relaxed, though he still kept a very close eye on the circling predators. Throughout the afternoon, Ke’alohi and Me’lei watched over and treated Io’lana, every now and then dipping the top of his head into the ocean in an effort to keep him cool and control his fever. And always they looked to the west, hoping to spot land…but the horizon remained stubbornly empty.
It started to
rain lightly just before sundown and both celebrated their luck as they raised their mouths to the sky to quench their growing thirst. The happy mood didn’t last long however, because just as they were feeling better about their situation a shark nudged Me’lei’s right leg, which he had dangling in the water. Without hurry, the old sailor pulled his limb out of the ocean, and in the twilight of evening gazed about at the circling hunters. The sharks were no longer keeping their distance, but instead were spiraling ever closer. It was an ominous development and Me’lei well knew that the bump to his leg was not necessarily benign. Sharks were often cautious of their prey in the beginning, before the first strike.
“Keep a hold on Io’lana,” the older man told Ke’alohi, “and make sure he stays up and out of the water.”
“The sharks belong to Kamohalii?” Ke’alohi asked with wide, frightened eyes.
“It would seem so,” Me’lei replied calmly, “but it’s still not certain.”
An hour later there was no doubt. One large, aggressive shark suddenly slammed into the bow of the wa’a, causing the overturned craft to lurch violently. Only the section of wooden deck that was still attached kept the large canoe from rolling over and spilling all its occupants into the sea.
There was little the men could do but hang on and pray to the gods; even so Me’lei gingerly climbed once more out onto the decking and pulled up a pair of loose planks from the far end. He staggered once as a shark bumped against the underside of the deck, but it was not a particularly hard blow and Me’lei soon regained his footing. He made his way carefully back to the wa’a, very mindful of the gap that existed between the wa’a and the main section of planks. While not wide, a foot or leg could easily slip between and down into the water, which would be very unfortunate at this stage.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 13